"...and the Fairy House is prepared to commit to a yearly renewed [Contract] to provide scouting, fast response, emergency delivery, and light-payload delivery services for Red Sand Realm operations integrated into the Order's Unity Framework."
"In exchange, we require primary access to all non-sensitive data recovered within the Red Sand Realm that pertains to potential resource exploitation sites."
As it unsurprisingly turned out, being part of the delegation sent by the Fairy House to the Nexus Order's headquarters on the forty-fifth floor was proving to be a remarkably enlightening experience.
I was not granted any actual authority per se, but neither was I expected to be mute.
Whenever the opportunity arose, I was encouraged to provide my opinion, and though said opinions were generally dissected into a hundred lifeless pieces shortly afterward, what more could I ask for if my only desire was to gain practical experiences?
"If the Fairy House is willing to release the Nexus Order from the previous cooperation [Contract]'s property acquisition clause, the Nexus Order would be willing to elevate your proposed agreement into an official affiliation [Contract]."
"Moving forward, the Nexus Order would be willing to guarantee both the Fairy House's safety within the Red Sand Sector and the protection of its interests."
In response to what was still technically the Fairy House's opening proposal, despite the negotiations already having progressed into active disagreement on several points, Murad, the Nexus Order's official representative within the Red Sand Sector, immediately raised a point I hadn't even considered.
And that was despite me having been present when the cooperation [Contract] was originally drafted, after Evija visited the Fairy House and recruited me to escort them there.
I fully expected the other fairies part of the Fairy House delegation to be as confused as I was, but instead, all those who displayed their inner state of mind physically merely nodded, as though the proposal had been entirely expected.
I, however, was confused.
Why would the Order not want to purchase properties whose value had collapsed?
What about the cooperation [Contract]'s formulation made the Order so eager to eliminate one of its major clauses?
Did the Fairy House slip in something unbeknownst to the Order?
What would be the point of being underhanded like that if they were not seeking a year-long cooperation [Contract]?
Unwilling to interrupt the negotiations, I directed the question to [Guided] instead.
My hand was [Guided] to write down "performance-adjusted compensation structure tied to baseline property valuations" in the book I was using to transcribe the negotiations.
That was all that was needed to refresh my memories about how the Fairy House had anticipated a scenario in which it lost leverage while still contributing significantly to the cooperation effort.
To account for that eventuality, numerous addenda had been included to ensure that any property valuation would be based on market prices at the time the [Contract] was signed.
And that time was before the unfortunate events that followed afterwards transpired.
Now, due to a series of unforeseen developments, those protections had likely transformed an otherwise innocuous safety clause into...
Something worth an enormous amount of coins once adjusted to the current economy.
On top of that, from what I had gathered during the discussions thus far, the Fairy House's contribution had ended up being substantial.
Its members had not only located the atmospheric station, they had also been the first to enter it, enabling its subsequent securing and the recovery of the oh-so valuable station network map.
With that additional context, the Order's position became obvious.
The clause had become expensive.
Very expensive.
Expensive enough that, given the situation, the Order would much rather redirect those resources toward expanding its operations within a Red Sand Sector that had just revealed a glimpse of its untapped potential.
It was... reasonable.
And I could even see how the Fairy House's refusal could lead it down a path we would much prefer to avoid.
In the end, it was about money.
If there was one thing I had begun to understand over the past month as a member of the Fairy House whose sole [Purpose] was advancing the interests of the faction I belonged to, which would in turn, theoretically, equally further my own interests...
It was that while an individual like me, indifferent to things and services I could buy with it, could dismiss coins as irrelevant, factions rarely—if ever—had that luxury.
Because when acting on the level of a faction, coins were perhaps the closest thing to a universal measure of power.
Seriously, I tried to evaluate the city's various factions from every possible angle when Stavros tasked me with producing a comprehensive assessment of them.
Their powerhouses.
Their membership.
Their influence.
Their history.
Their goals.
I meticulously assessed everything, but in the end, every line of analysis converged upon the same conclusion.
Money.
Because wealth was, in practice, a proxy for almost everything else averaged together.
A proxy rife with possibilities of being misinterpreted, but a proxy nonetheless.
And so it was that economic capital ended up being at the core of an opportunity for the Fairy House to further advance its interests.
"In addition to your proposed amendment of our [Contract] into an official affiliation [Contract], the Fairy House is willing to dissolve the property acquisition clause of our previous cooperation [Contract] in exchange for receiving priority access to all Essence sand-related intelligence."
"You're not asking for exploitation rights, are you?"
"No, that would be preposterous. We wouldn't even dare ask for bidding privileges or preferential negotiations."
"We can even include wording stipulating that the Fairy House becomes an independent agent the instant it acts outside the purview of the Nexus Order's Unity Framework, providing you with full deniability for..."
Like that, through a relentless back-and-forth whose appearance remained deceptively civil, the Fairy House and the Nexus Order slowly hammered out a new agreement, each side gradually narrowing in on its true objectives while probing the other's limits.
The only real difference compared to when Evija visited the Fairy House was that this time, both parties had far more at stake.
One side was laying the groundwork for potentially immense future opportunities and benefits.
The other was treading the line between its [Ideal] and reality, aware that while its [Purpose] was fundamentally good, it inevitably became entangled in complex interactions once meshed with something as interconnected as Civilization.
Another two hours later, the negotiation finally reached a point where it ought to move past an exchange of words and into tangible writing, which, for a [Contract] of such significance, meant setting up another meeting.
"...I believe we can settle on that for now. The Nexus Order will convene the Fairy House in one week with a finalized affiliation [Contract]. You are welcome to send representatives to assist in its drafting," Murad declared, then stood up.
"It was a pleasure receiving you, and I sincerely hope both our organizations pursue this endeavor with the same spirit of righteousness and mutual assistance."
In answer, Stavros stood up from his chair located on top of the table and answered, "The Fairy House wishes for the same thing, and believes that only through such a spirit can an endeavor of this scale reach a successful conclusion."
At last, after more than eight hours spent inside the Nexus Order's headquarters, we made our way toward the exit.
Along the way, necessarily, I once more found myself amazed by the Order's unique architectural direction.
If the Faith was minimalist, then the Order was its opposite.
Wide open spaces.
Numerous openings leading to the outside.
Ornate designs etched into every wall, and especially into the round pillars standing at seemingly every corner.
Sculptures and relics of old, both real or facsimiles, scattered throughout the structure...
It was overwhelming.
And it created a visual impression I was unlikely to forget anytime soon.
"What are you thinking about?"
Appearing right beside me while bypassing both my [Awareness] and every other sense I possessed like it was nothing, Stavros asked casually.
At this point, he no longer even bothered concealing his ability to evade my [Perception], insisting it qualified as exposure [Training] for my [Secrecy] synthesis [Cultivation].
As for what I was thinking...
"I was thinking about the Order's extravagant architectural style. Now, I'm split between thinking about my [Awareness] being useless and how strange it still feels to be part of a group in which every individual is just as capable of leisurely flight as I am."
"You'll get used to it," he said. "My question, however, was more targeted at the meeting we just left, which once again proves that your social acumen is a bit lacking."
"I'll accept this fault without mentioning the broadness of your initial interrogation, then," I reciprocated, "As for my thoughts on the meeting..."
I contemplated for a bit, then allowed [Guided] to steer my argument without adding anything to it.
"The overall outcome was satisfactory, but the execution fell short of what I assume to be the optimal arrangement for aligning the Fairy House's interests with the Order's."
"If the lost stations truly contain something [Worthy] of this entire endeavor, the [Ideal] [Contract] would be one that ensures we benefit regardless of how many future parties join the table or whether we eventually become sidelined."
"But what do I know?" I shrugged.
"If there is no possibility of us being sidelined, if we truly possess the capabilities required to maintain a meaningful role, if we're willing to sacrifice certain securities in exchange for sustained freedom of action, if we're prepared to eventually separate from the Order once the incentives become large enough..."
"There are too many ifs. And depending on their answers, everything changes."
"Not that raising these concerns is particularly relevant. It's not as though I'll be around to deal with the logistical nightmare that follows."
"Though, with fewer than a hundred fairies, I fail to see how the Fairy House could absorb the consequences of pursuing what I consider the optimal affiliation [Contract]—one that would maximize what we receive in the ultra long-term in exchange for advancing the Order's short and medium-term interests."
Stavros stayed silent for a moment, then allowed my [Awareness] to catch something of a nod.
"Your mind is truly built differently," he remarked.
"Anyway, I need to deal with a few matters before the Fairy House can sign this affiliation [Contract]. That means I won't be available to train you during the coming week. Would you be willing to assist our [Contract] writers while I'm gone?"
The matter didn't even necessitate contemplation, really, so I nodded. "That would be my pleasure. I also suppose that's [Fate], considering how many times the term "[Contract] writer" has shown up in my recent memories."
"Did it?" Stavros looked at me, surely expecting me to further explain this strange occurrence, but I had little interest in explaining, so I settled for a straightforward shrug.
That was apparently sufficient for his superior social acumen to get it, as he moved on without insisting. "Let's do it that way, then. Speak with Asco once we return to the castle. He'll take care of..."
◇ ◈ ◈ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◈ ◈ ◇
"We will now begin the drafting of the affiliation [Contract] between the Fairy House and the Order according to the terms discussed during the prior meeting," Evija declared, her tone of voice authoritative as it spread through the ornate room we were in.
Nine individuals were present, surrounding a table replete with all the writing implements we could ever need.
Three representatives from the Fairy House.
Five representatives from the Order.
And me.
"To facilitate this endeavor, the Nexus Order has opted for the Unity Framework mercenary-variant affiliation [Contract]," Evija continued. "We will thus begin with a review of the foundational terms. Any objection?"
No one spoke up.
"Let us start, then," she said as she sat back down in her chair.
"The first article concerns affiliation status," one of the Order's [Contract] writers said.
Everyone looked down at the most prominent document arranged before every chair.
"The Fairy House is to become an officially affiliated organization of the Nexus Order," the same who spoke began reciting, "As such, the aforementioned organization ought to..."
What followed was the most boring recitation I ever had to live through.
What was so hard about defining what "affiliated" actually meant?
It was essentially just a list of short-form questions written in a way to confuse the reader by leaving absolutely no ambiguity.
Could the Order issue direct commands?
No.
Could it issue operational requests?
Yes.
Could the Fairy House refuse them?
Generally yes.
Under what circumstances?
That bit required a whole paragraph.
Then another.
And another.
Until a single sentence had transformed into nearly half a page.
Then a second clause followed.
Information sharing.
"The current wording states that both parties shall share information judged relevant to the [Purpose] of the Order."
Military information?
Obviously.
Security threats?
Obviously.
Anomalies in the Red Sand Realm?
Of course.
Undercurrent in the Red Sand Rift city?
Definitely.
Just as they were about to move on, however, one of the Fairy House representatives, Basanti, tapped the table.
"To what degrees are investment opportunities defined as relevant?"
The room paused.
"Does the clause to share sensitive information if judged relevant to the [Purpose] of the Order include investment opportunities that would make the Order's operations cheaper or more effective?" he detailed.
"Potentially." One of the Order's writers eventually answered.
"Potentially sounds like a future argument."
Like that, after ten minutes of discussion, that clause gained an entire subsection defining what categories of information qualified as operationally relevant.
Then the process repeated.
Again.
And again.
Every clause was attacked from every angle.
What if one side became incapable of fulfilling its obligations?
What if the Red Sand Sector destabilized?
What if new stations were discovered?
What if a third faction became involved?
Every hypothetical generated additional wording.
Every wording generated additional hypotheticals.
By the fourth hour, I finally understood what [Contract] writing actually was about.
It was not entirely about leaving no ambiguity, as I initially thought.
It was more of a sort of strange, warped predictive warfare.
One side attempted to imagine future problems.
The other attempted to imagine even more future problems.
Then they wrote down whichever prediction survived scrutiny.
Slowly but surely, as I connected various [Knowledge] I read here, and there to what was happening, that realization alone made the entire session worthwhile.
That's what practical experience was about.
The next discussion concerned future discoveries, which covered the discovery of Essence sand that the Fairy House was interested in.
After all, if deposits worthy of industrial extraction were discovered, the consequences would be enormous.
Economic.
Political.
Military.
Potentially all three.
The Order wanted flexibility.
The Fairy House wanted access.
The resulting clause was already becoming lengthy and convoluted when I decided to raise my hand for the first time to play my part as the naive child.
"Wouldn't this clause require either faction to surrender or drastically weaken the advantageous opportunities it discovers?"
It accomplished what it was supposed to, and the room turned toward me, so I pursued in the way they demonstrated to me.
By putting it into practice.
"If the Fairy House discovers a property likely to increase tenfold in value due to future developments caused by the Order's activities, would it be mandatory to inform the Order?"
No one answered.
I continued.
"And if the Order identifies a future investment opportunity that could significantly improve its operations, would it be expected to inform the Fairy House before acting on it?"
That earned me a few thoughtful looks.
"Because if the answer is yes, then both factions are effectively being asked to weaken their own positions."
I glanced at the draft.
"And if the answer is no, then the clause appears too broad to be meaningful."
That finally drew a response.
"The purpose is to facilitate cooperation, not compel either party to act against its own interests," one of the Order representatives said.
"Then shouldn't the wording reflect that distinction?" I asked.
Slowly, my words got through.
Information was not inherently valuable.
Advantageous information was.
And advantageous information was precisely what organizations were least willing to share.
Not out of malice.
Out of incentives.
"A [Contract] can't simply demand trust into existence, can it? It has to create circumstances where cooperation is beneficial within limits that do not become constraining. At least that's how it [Ideal]ly should be," I finished.
"And how would you translate something like that into [Contract] wordings?"
"Make the information-sharing obligations narrower, and the mechanisms for joint ventures and mutually beneficial opportunities broader? Aligning incentives is what this clause is about, isn't it? Or let's just keep the clause as is, but add a provision to it later?"
Sixteen minutes later, my proposition was accepted and put on the list of potential provisions to include in the finalized [Contract].
Objective achieved.
By the time the first day of contact drafting ended, out of nine of my interruptions, two made it through the scrutiny of the more experienced construct writers.
The next day, three of six.
The day after that, one of two.
And finally, on the fourth day, the [Contract] drafting got to the finalization phase, and new clauses and provisions started being thrown around like grains of sand in a sandstorm.
I mostly abstained during that first day.
Until, on the fifth day, the [Contract] drafting started addressing long-term implications.
And there, for the first time, just as a section of the [Contract] was on the verge of being approved, I noticed something I felt was important.
The draft assumed only two parties existed.
So I raised my hand.
"Isn't this the point where provisions regarding future affiliated factions should be added? Or does that come later?"
One of the Order's representatives looked at me.
Then at the Fairy House delegation.
Then, somewhat surprisingly, at the other representatives of the Order.
"Does the Fairy House wish to include affiliation-extension provisions?"
For a ludicrous moment, everyone exchanged glances as though I had somehow wandered into a taboo subject.
"Do we not?" I asked.
"That..." Asco frowned in thought.
Feeling increasingly confused, I decided to explain my reasoning.
"If the affiliation proves beneficial, then other factions will inevitably seek the same status."
No one disagreed.
"And isn't the entire purpose of this [Contract] to ensure that the Fairy House benefits from the Order's future growth and influence while facilitating this same growth of influence?"
"Furthermore, given the potential value of the station network map, if dozens of stations are found, aren't additional affiliations a predictable consequence?"
The room remained silent, everyone seemingly waiting for me to finish disclosing my thoughts.
"If that is the case, then the Fairy House's relative importance will inevitably decrease over time as the Sector adapts, even if our early contributions were notable. So shouldn't the [Contract] contain mechanisms protecting our interests once that happens?"
One of the Order's [Contract] writers nodded before speaking up, "It is true that if multiple affiliated factions eventually compete for overlapping interests, disagreements become inevitable. Waiting until after such affiliations occur to establish procedures would be inefficient."
He paused.
"Though it should be noted that the Order is not presently expecting any additional affiliation [Contract]s to be signed."
"What sort of provisions are you suggesting, then, Solaena?" Evija asked me directly.
I did not even need to consider the question before answering.
"I merely think the [Contract] should acknowledge that future affiliates may exist and provide mechanisms to integrate them."
"Whether that takes the form of communication procedures, consultation requirements, or some sort of mediation process, I do not know what would be best."
"In the end, though, faction politics is fundamentally about making interests converge where doing so benefits oneself, isn't it?"
"If that's true, then it seems logical to establish structures that make future interests easier to align, even if doing so occasionally results in conflict," I finished.
That was the full extent of my [Comprehension], one that encompassed all the [Insight]s I had slowly accumulated on the marvelous, ripe-for-exploitation topic that was the web of interests underlying Civilization.
"I suppose we could add the outline of some affiliation-extension provisions to protect both parties' future interests in the event that things grow beyond our current expectations," Basanti ultimately said, rephrasing my [Comprehension] in his own words.
And with a first voice having spoken up, the rest became inevitable.
For the next hour, the discussion dissected my [Comprehension] from every conceivable angle.
Most of my assumptions were rejected outright.
Several were challenged.
Others survived only after being modified beyond recognition.
In the end, only a handful of low-maintenance provisions designed to prevent costly conflicts of interest remained.
Altogether, they occupied less than a quarter of a page and would not come into effect unless the Order extended the affiliation status to factions besides the Fairy House.
By the time the fifth day's session finally concluded, the draft [Contract] had grown by dozens of pages, all of them filled with ornate [Contract]ual language that would have appeared as little more than gibberish to anyone who had not personally witnessed the countless discussions, assumptions, contingencies, and compromises that had shaped every clause.
And the following day, after a grueling review session dedicated to ensuring the document actually said what everyone believed it said, the affiliation [Contract] was finally completed and ready to be signed.